


Bunny Madonna

by escavatedanastasia



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Breastfeeding, Fluff, Implied Mpreg, M/M, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending, babying, not really kinky just kinda Jack being a sadboi, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escavatedanastasia/pseuds/escavatedanastasia
Summary: Bunny wants to be a mommy again so much that he’s itching to baby the closest thing in his vicinity. Jack wants that ass but mostly attention. Convenient magic ensues.





	Bunny Madonna

**Author's Note:**

> Also that title is bc of the Beatles song unlike my last fic it’s not referring to the singer Madonna. Ok

“Gentle, Jack. It helps to keep in mind that the egg you’re painting is, in fact, an egg.”  
“Come on, I’m not two,” Jack replied with a roll of his eyes as the wood of the brush scraped again the eggshell, prompting a grimace from Aster. “And you’ve got a million eggs being made every second, what’ll even happen if this one breaks?”  
“Do you see the legs? This is a living thing. Plus it’s not quite ripe yet so you’ll get yolk all over your trousers.” The pooka got up to place the basket he’d finished in a growing pile.  
“Whatever you say, mom.”  
Aster glanced at him, tightening his lips before returning to the grass with a sigh. “What’s the matter with bein’ motherly? You’re a kid compared to the rest of us Guardians.”  
“Am not!” Jack argued, though there was some truth to it.  
“Are too. Ever think you might just activate certain instincts outta me and Tooth?”  
“The predatory kind?” Jack teased before Aster reached over and flicked his nose.  
“The motherly kind. Didn’t North ever tell you I had a family like you? A rather large one, in fact.”  
“No?” Jack tried to picture Aster as a mother, but he’d only thought of him as an older brother when he wasn’t wishing he would love him back the same way Jack did. “How large?”  
“I had eleven kits with my husband. He was so grateful for each kit we’d make another litter as soon as we could. He thought it’d help the pookas from goin’ extinct. Ironic.” Aster was staring off into space as Jack scooted close. “I tried to get them all out before me, but kitlings have sensitive lungs that succumb to smoke so easily. I could rip myself apart for being the only one left instead’a a least one of them.”  
“It’s not your fault, Bunny,” Jack whispered, setting the goog down and reaching for his paw. Aster took it with a protective grasp that made Jack feel like he was ascending. “Is there...I know it’s too late to really do anything, but I can’t stand to see you like this.”  
Aster gave Jack a tight smile before his eyes widened. “Well I actually...well I do have an abandoned project from a few decades back—a pendant necklace, I originally made it to subdue my more rebellious plants but you’re rather vegetative.” He tapped his chin before running up to a trunk beneath a tree in the warren, shuffling around before removing an amethyst pendant on a platinum chain.  
“Put this on and I’ll see you as I want to, which’ll put all these repressed instincts into overdrive, crikey what the hell’m I doing?” His sentence ended with a nervous squeak as he withdrew it from Jack’s reach. “This is silly, pretend I never even suggested it. Just...go play.”  
Jack couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he floated forward, grabbing it just as Aster started walking away.  
“I wanna help, kangaroo. Let’s see if you’ve got a pouch for me.”  
“I do NOT have a—hey, wait!”  
Jack slipped on the charm, suddenly feeling a sharp pang in his stomach that Aster appeared to share, sending them both to the ground. However, unlike Jack Aster could get back up a moment later. The rabbit gasped loudly before it turned into a shriek of both astonishment and terror.  
“What?!” Jack demanded, wrinkling his nose as he felt it begin to tickle tremendously. The pieces began to fall into place. Of course he’d look like a little pooka kit. He glanced down at a well-groomed coat of stark white fur before getting on his hands and knees to head to the reflection pool.  
Aster got over his initial shock long enough to chase the surprisingly quick thing headed towards the water. “That’s dangerous, kit! You’ve no idea you deep that is!” He scooped him up to scold Jack before staring into his eyes. He had a new kit for the first time in centuries, a beautiful creation. He wished his late husband could have seen this masterpiece. He blinked back tears, holding him close before starting towards a hut.  
“You’re not even dressed for the day yet, darling,” he whispered, his voice now as gentle as a dove as he set the kit down on a mat, placing a few rattles and stuffed animals around him. He clasped his hands together as he watched Jack play along so well, cooing at a unicorn and flapping his arms.  
“My beautiful baby,” Aster sang softly as he pulled out a white cloth, sitting down to fold and pin it between his kit’s legs before adding a denim romper, a pair of socks and a pink hat with a daisy on it that his teacup ears poked out of. A rosy hue appeared on Jack’s cheeks, but he kept up the act nonetheless, clinging to Aster’s fur. The elder pooka had started looking different now, too, though in a more subtle sense. His chest looked a little more plump, but so did his hips, providing more of an hourglass figure, a common body type for a pooka who had pushed out eleven kits more recent than not. This new body was decked in paint-stained overalls—not a traditional garment for a pooka, but one for a tired but careful artist and househusband. His face looked all-too-prepared for whatever trouble a baby could get himself into, experienced to a fault. Jack felt so protected.  
“You haven’t had your breakfast yet either, have you flower?” Aster cooed, searching the cupboard before pulling out a jar of baby food and a bib. Jack bit his lip hesitantly at the sight of both as Aster lifted him into a high chair. Even Jack could tell it was engraved by the hands of pookas from long before he could remember. He was so distracted by this that he didn’t notice a spoonful of mashed plums pushed gently into his mouth before it was too late. He couldn’t help but make a face and spit it out, the remnants being quickly caught by the bib.  
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I just want you to be healthy. I wanna see you grow up,” Aster explained as he stirred the mixture sheepishly. The words alone caused Jack to regret something so simple. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth, prompting Aster to happily give him a second spoonful, then a third, a fourth, a fifth.  
“Yummy! Such a good kit!” Aster praised as he kept shoveling it in. “You can pack away about as much as your daddy, yes you can! Mama loves you so much.”  
Jack could feel his heart soar at his words. This was all one-sided affection, however, and he felt disgusting for feeling this way when he was only trying to help Aster relive the days before his race went extinct. He hadn’t seen a brightness in his eyes like this in a while.  
“All done!” Aster announced, lifting Jack out and setting him on the floor again before removing his bib, placing it in the sink. As he drew some water from the pump he began to hear a noise coming from his kit, one strange but all too familiar. He glanced behind and saw Jack clutching his stomach, making animalistic whimpers as he curled over. Aster quickly met him on the ground, grabbing him and checking for bruises.  
“Too much plums?” he cooed, stating the obvious and pulling Jack close. “Mama’s so sorry, but I can’t have you all bony like this. A chubby kit’s a healthy kit.” Jack found himself nodding as he whined, only for that whining to morph into a purr as Aster began to bathe him with his tongue. “And a clean kit is a happy kit,” he whispered as if it were an age old mantra, dragging his rough tongue along the kit’s temples as he started to squirm. “Alright. Feel better?” Aster waited for a nod before pulling him to his chest without a warning beyond unbuttoning a strap of his overalls. Jack sputtered as he caught a mouthful of soft fur before the doe reached in to assist him in locating his nipple. “C’mon, Jack, they hurt,” Aster rather whined through his teeth, a brief breach of the act. Jack willed himself not to think they were hurting for any other reason besides an innocent maternal instinct as he started sucking his sweet nectar. Aster sighed happily, petting down Jack’s head. “Good kit. You like quiet time with Mummy, yeah? Precious baby kit. Mama’s little dumpling.” He kept doting and offering new nicknames as he fed Jack, receiving feedback through gentle giggles and happy sighs. Jack began to wish Aster really was his mother now—he was so affectionate and genuine when he did something as minimal as sweep a loose drop from Jack’s mouth and place it in his own. When the discomfort had subsided Aster took his kit and draped him over his shoulder, expertly patting his back. Jack began to cry again as an embarrassed blush rose in his cheeks a second time, but Aster didn’t rush to comfort him, seeking to fulfill the task until his kitling finally belched. He began to set him back on the ground once again, but stopped short when Jack’s big pooka feet touched the floor. “Wobbly thing,” he teased, holding his hands up. With the ears Jack was just short of three feet tall, the height most kits were when they started to take their first steps. Jack’s legs felt like jelly as he tried to take a step forward, only to wobble back. Aster looked like this was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen since he invented Easter.  
“You never commented on how I walked before,” Jack snidely replied, only to get adoring babbling from Aster in return. What was this sudden language barrier?  
Aster could only hear “Ba-ga! Da!” from his kit, which sent his instincts into a frenzy. He quickly imitated the intelligible noises, receiving an “Adah!” for his efforts. It felt like the whole world was singing as Aster kissed his baby all over, whispering again how much he loved him and how wonderful the gods were to give him such a sweet little gift. He practically melted at the little squeaks he received in reply, completely oblivious to Jack’s own bittersweet world singing a slightly quieter tune. Everything would be back to where it was before once the necklace was removed, but for now it was the best day of Aster’s life after the extinction. For this moment he had his own little miracle in Jack.


End file.
